


MasterChef Black & Jack

by LindzEM



Category: MasterChef (US) RPF, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-13 05:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14742627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindzEM/pseuds/LindzEM
Summary: In a Willy Wonka-esque turn of events, Jack wins a country-wide cooking contest where he gets the grand prize of becoming the legendary MasterChef Pitch Black's private student for an entire year and actually live with him while he studies under his mentor ship. However, Jack soon learns that beyond the fame and strictness, there is a much deeper emotional level to the real man than meets the eye.





	1. Chapter 1

All Jack could do was stare in absolute shock. Complete astonishment. Totally flabbergasted. He held the thick black envelope in his trembling hands, standing in the middle of the small kitchen where he lived with his hard-working single foster parent, Madeline. The boy had to set the envelope and subsequent letter that was within it, on the table as he started to pace back and forth while running his hands through his short white hair almost in a panic.

“I….I don’t believe it… I CAN’T believe it! No, there must be a mistake…”

The boy paused and picked up the letter with even worse trembling hands once more. His eyes ran down the long paragraphs on congratulations until they got down to the beautiful cursive signature of world renowned MasterChef, Pitch Black, written in golden ink at the bottom. The boy had to put the letter down once more to continue pacing, in contrast to his racing heart.

“I won…I seriously won…Oh my god, I WON!!!”

He let out a scream of joy and then suddenly covered his mouth upon hearing the prompt shrieking cry of a baby come from upstairs.

“…Oops…”

He carefully gathered both the letter and envelope in his hands, then proceeded to rush out of the kitchen and around up the stairs to the second floor. He jogged down the hall and slowly opened the door to the last room on the left where Madeline was sleeping in an armchair while her baby cried in it’s crib right next to her. The blonde-haired woman had jolted awake at the loud noise, sighing and rubbing her tired deep blue eyes. She stood, went over to pick up her baby, and began to try to calm it down.

“Dammit Jack, he just fell asleep and so did I…What was the commotion about?”

Jack went over to her with such wonder and joy in his smile as he held open the letter for her to read, so he wouldn’t have to speak and disturb the baby again. It took her a little while to be sure she was reading it properly as she squinted, but then her eyes widened just as much as his had. She cradled the baby and looked at Jack with such a proud wide smile, tears beginning to form in her eyes. She whispered very softly to him.

“Meet me downstairs in a few minutes, ok?”

Jack nodded eagerly and quietly left the room. He sneaked downstairs again and went to wait in the kitchen for her to come down. Madeline eventually snuck down as well, but once she crossed the threshold of the kitchen from the hallway she rushed over and hugged Jack with such a loving embrace. He was startled for a split second, but then tears fell from his own eyes as he hugged her back. When she finally released him from her loving arms, she held him by his shoulders at arm’s length and leaned down to look him in the eyes, both of them having their faces still wet with tears of happiness. She still spoke softly and began to wipe away Jack’s tears with her sleeve.

“I knew you could do it, sweetheart. I knew you had the passion and determination. You are going to grow up to become such a wonderful MasterChef and travel all over the world.”

Jack smiled up at her with such immense pride in his own sparkling blue eyes.

“I could never have done it without you, Maddy…You always believed in me, even when I couldn’t believe in myself…”

They both hugged each other again tightly, like mother and son type strength of love.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun rose gorgeously the next day as Jack awoke. The boy yawned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He took a slight glance at his alarm clock and his eyes filled with panic.

“Oh crap, my alarm didn’t go off!”

With an instant burst of energy, the teen leapt out of the bed and began to rush around his room getting dressed. A few minutes later, he could hear a car horn blaring from the driveway outside. It was hastily followed by Maddy’s voice.

“Jack, the taxi’s here!”

Quickly tying his shoes, the boy responded.

“Coming!”

With another rush of excitement, he sprinted down the stairs and over to Maddy, who was already waiting at the front door for him with his suitcase packed. Jack smiled up at her as she straightened his shirt and fixed his hair a bit.

“You’ll be just fine, sweetheart. You can always call me whenever you want or if you need anything, ok?”

Jack’s heart swelled with pride and they hugged each other tightly. The taxi honked again and Jack pulled away reluctantly.

“I love you Maddy…”

The woman smiled and kissed his forehead.

“I love you too, Jack. Kick some culinary butt out there.”

With that the teen turned and picked up his luggage, walking off to the taxi and getting into the backseat. He felt a bit of sadness leaving the only real home he ever knew, but his hopes were higher than ever for his future. Meeting the culinary god Pitch Black was more than he could have ever dreamed of and he was about to start a private year long apprenticeship actually living with him.

Jack could do nothing more than stare out the window of the taxi and the plane he boarded. It was all so much to take in at once, but he remembered what Maddy had told him and knew he’d be ok. When he finally arrived in Los Angeles, the widest smile of amazement stuck on his face. All of the sights and sounds of a bustling city filled him with a sense of wonder. He wandered until he saw a limousine driver holding up a sign for Jack Frost. The boy quickly made his way over with a cheerful demeanor. The driver then quickly double checked that he was who he said he was with some more official documents the teen promptly provided. He was then lead off out of the airport and into the waiting limo.

They drove through the city until they finally emerged out into more of the countryside. When the driver announced that they were finally at Pitch’s residence, Jack’s stomach finally flipped with the nerves he had been repressing, or rather ignoring. What was the man like when he wasn’t on a television screen? Was he really as intimidating and serious? He was about to find out and the fear began to seep in. What if he couldn’t impress him? What if he disappointed the man so badly that he was just sent straight back home? He swallowed roughly as the limo came to a stop just in front of the grand highly modern style mansion. Jack could only gaze up in awe at such a grand place.

“W-Wow…”

The driver helped Jack with his bag, then wished him luck and departed. Now Jack was alone and more nervous than he had ever been in his whole life. With a few deep breaths to motivate himself he picked up his bag and walked up the steps to the front double doors. He rang the doorbell and held his breath. He heard a loud crash from inside and several loud curses. The boy blinked and waited patiently. After a few more minutes one of the doors opened and Pitch Black stood there before him in all his glory, well, if glory was disheveled and in a black bathrobe. It certainly wasn’t the first impression he was expecting, but the boy smiled up at him as kindly as he could.

“H-Hello, Mr. Black, sir. I-I’m Jack Frost—”

Pitch interrupted him and rubbed his head.

“Ah yes yes, the winner of the contest. I remember. Please, come in.”

Pitch tried to smile himself and politely held open the door for his new guest. Jack quickly entered, not wanting to make his idol wait or come off as a slow burden. Inside the manor was even grander than the outside, decorated to the tens with elegant blacks, golds, and all manner of expensive décor. Pitch closed the door and walked past Jack with a slight nonchalant wave of his hand, still rubbing his head with the other.

“Just wait here a moment and I’ll be right back…”

Jack nodded eagerly, still entranced with the environment around him that screamed pure luxury.

“O-Of course! Yeah. No problem.”

Pitch departed up the curved staircase and to the upper floor, disappearing from view down the hall. Jack gently set his bag down next to the large sofa but paused upon seeing a shattered red wind bottle on the ground as well as a few others on the coffee table. The teen couldn’t help but whisper to himself.

“That explains the noise…”

He turned and kept looking around, trying to take in all the details, but he’d have plenty of time to let it all sink in since he’d get to live here for an entire year. He was suddenly brought back to his senses when he heard Pitch coming back down the stairs. The man was now dressed properly in his chef jacket and black pants, his hair fixed from the untidy mess it was, and a more serious expression Jack could never forget. Pitch cleared his throat and approached the boy.

“Now, shall we begin the test?”

Jack’s expression changed from more elated to slightly confused, but he was willing to jump off a cliff if this man ordered him to.

“Y-Yes, yes sir.”

Pitch nodded and walked off into the kitchen.

“Good. Follow me.”

Jack left his suitcase there in the living room and quickly followed behind. Entering this man’s kitchen was every professional chef’s wet dream. All of the latest high-tech equipment and gorgeous black marble counters. Jack felt his own heart skip a beat as he gazed around. He couldn’t help but utter in disbelief that he was actually standing there and not just dreaming.

“Woah…”

Pitch turned and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. Jack snapped back into reality once more at his commanding voice.

“The only test I will need to administer is this. It will tell me whether or not you are truly up for the task of this rigorous apprenticeship. Are you ready?”

Jack nodded, an eagerness to please and a fire in his eyes. This was his moment to shine.

“Yes, chef!”

Pitch nodded towards his refrigerator and then motioned all around to his kitchen.

“Very well. You have all the time you need to cook your signature dish that you used to enter and win the contest. I have all the ingredients and equipment you will need. When you finish you will present it to me. Understand?”

Jack nodded even more ready to try to impress his idol. Pitch’s golden eyes locked onto the boy sternly, but with a level of curiosity.

“Good, then begin.”

Jack immediately went over to the fridge and opened it. He did in fact see the primary ingredients he needed in order to make his dish, the lamb was fresh and ready to be sliced. Although for some reason he noticed that there were many more lamb portions than he needed. Way more. He pushed the oddity out of his mind, taking out the meat and setting it on the counter, then rushed around grabbing all the other ingredients he needed. He could feel Pitch watching him and his every move like a hawk. Jack did his best to ignore the intimidation for now and keep working with his full concentration. Pitch said nothing the entire time. It took Jack roughly an hour and a half, but he finally finished his lamb dish and plated it up to the very best of his ability. With a beaming smile of pride, he set it down in front of Pitch and took a step back. Pitch glanced down at the dish and stared for a few moments in total silence. It killed Jack. He needed an answer. Hopefully a pleasant one. Finally, the man spoke, looking back at the teen with his dead serious expression.

“Do it again.”

Jack thought he had misheard him.

“Ch-Chef?...”

Pitch kept his steadfast gaze at Jack, not looking at all impressed.

“Your potatoes are poorly peeled and overcooked, the sauce not reduced enough, and your butchery of the lamb is appalling at best. I am giving you a second chance. Do it again.”

Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He just worked his ass off trying to perfect the dish for his culinary idol only to be completely shot down. He knew that dish like the back of his hand. He had practiced it so many times before to perfect it for the contest. What could he have done so wrong all of sudden? The boy swallowed his pride and vowed he would do even better, especially since Pitch Black was not a man to give out second chances, let alone first ones. Jack’s expression evolved into an even more determined one.

“Yes, Chef. Sorry, Chef.”

With even more intensity Jack proceeded to make the dish as best he could a second time. When he finished he couldn’t have been prouder and set it before Pitch. He had to approve of it this time. The man simply stared down at the dish again for a few moments before looking back up at Jack with no change of expression.

“Again.”

Jack’s heart sank. His heart skipped a beat and not in the good way. How could he have screwed it up a second time? What was wrong with him? How could he mess up so badly in front of Pitch Black? Being completely unwilling to screw up a third time, he got to work again. He gathered, he prepped, he cooked, and plated. Third time’s the charm, right? Pitch didn’t even glance at the dish this time, but kept his gaze locked on Jack.

“Again.”

Jack couldn’t believe it. His hands were trembling. His emotions were starting to well up inside of him more intensely than he wanted.

“Yes, Chef…”

So again a fourth time. No change.

“Again.”

A fifth time. Nope.

“Again.”

A sixth time. Nothing.

“Again.”

A seventh time and still nada.

“Again.”

For the eighth attempt, Jack could barely hold the potatoes steady as he tried to peel them. He was exhausted and distressed beyond anything he had ever felt before. He had been at this same dish all day and it was already night time. It was taking all of his composure to hold back the welling tears. Suddenly Jack’s eyes widened and he yelped in pain, cutting himself on the mandolin he was using to slice with. He was so upset he had forgotten to use the safety guard. His blood dripped down onto the counter and quickly held his finger in pain. That was his breaking point. The tears began to drip down his cheeks and Pitch could see them clear as day. The man finally stood straight and went over to a cabinet, pulling out a first aid kit. He walked over and set it down next to Jack. For a split-second Jack was actually foolish enough to think he would help him, but the man only walked past him.

“We’re done here. You failed. Clean up, take your things, and be gone by morning.”

His ice-cold words struck so deeply into Jack’s heart that he thought he could just die right then and there. As Pitch walked off Jack sobbed quietly to himself. Everything he had worked so hard for was destroyed in the span of a single day on one dish he claimed to have mastered. The teen was beyond devastated. His tears dripped down onto the counter as well as he shakily opened the kit and bandaged himself up. What was the point of any of it anymore? He had his chance and he screwed it up, not once, but 8 times. He sunk down against the cabinets and sobbed.

As all of his thoughts raced through his head, he sat there for a bit in total silence. The pain in his hand was beginning to subside a bit, but his heart was still shattered. The boy sniffled and gathered himself, standing up and shakily walking over to the fridge. He opened it to see 4 more lamb portions there. He wasn’t going to give up yet. There were still four left.

So Jack continued to cook throughout the night with an even fiercer passion in his being. He had to prove himself. He just had to. It couldn’t end like this. He accumulated several more cuts and burns to his hands as he worked, but he pushed past the pain. When he finally finished the 12th attempt with all of the energy he had left in him, he plated it up and got to cleaning what he had used. His efforts rapidly deteriorated halfway through his cleaning and he had never worked so hard or so long. The teen muttered to himself as he sat down on the kitchen floor against the counter, barely able to keep his eyes open.

“Just…close them f-for…for a minute…”

Before the boy knew it, he had laid down on his side curled up asleep just as the sun began to rise.

Pitch awoke earlier than he’d liked but got up anyways. He walked down into his kitchen in his bathrobe and paused with wide eyes to see Jack laying there on his floor dead asleep. The man looked over to see the finished plate of food and the boy’s efforts at cleaning. He was quite shocked as he carefully walked past the boy and opened the fridge to see all the portions gone. He closed it softly and turned to look back down at Jack.

“He must have been still trying all night…”

The man shook his head in disbelief and sighed.

“Stupid boy…”

He took out a fork and knife, finally tasting Jack’s dish. He barely managed a chuckle with another shake of his head, proceeding to eat the entire thing. When he finished he cleaned up the rest and went back over to the sleeping child. He knelt down beside him and very carefully scooped the boy up into his arms bridal style. He carried the teen up the stairs and into the spare bedroom across from his own. The man laid the boy down on the bed and brought in a spare throw blanket to cover him with. He couldn’t help but smile as he left Jack to sleep, softly closing the door behind him.

“I look forward to our interesting year together…”


End file.
